


Bring (Him) on Home to Me

by BirdOfHermes



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Loss, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Parent(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 11:11:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10875567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdOfHermes/pseuds/BirdOfHermes
Summary: Gamora sinks down onto one knee so her mouth is right by his ear. Again, Rocket doesn’t flinch.“How…dare…you.”“You know I did the right thing, Gamora,” Rocket says, doing his best to talk with the wickedly sharp metal only a breath away from piercing his hide.“Leaving my friend to die alone on that horrible planet was the right thing to do?” she whispers. “Shooting me in the back when I was going to go save him was the right thing to do?”-Two missing scenes from the end of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2.





	Bring (Him) on Home to Me

**Author's Note:**

> I really, really liked Guardians Vol 2, but I do have two tiny little nitpicks with the ending. It bothered me a lot that Rocket tasered Gamora to prevent her from going back for Peter. He made a bad choice for the right reason, but since Gamora didn't get to participate in taking down Ego, it bummed me out that she got sidelined. Secondly, I wanted a Peter/Gamora kiss. I understand why they didn't, but I still wanted one, so this fic mainly serves to fill in the blanks that I think the movie should have, but didn't. We all know Gamora would've been furious with Rocket after he stopped her.
> 
> Naturally, spoilers for the end of GotG Volume 2.

Rocket isn’t surprised to feel a blade at his throat.

After all, he’d heard her stalk over to him. Hell, even before that, he’d heard the frantic scrabble of her jerking awake from her unceremonious (and forceful) unconsciousness. He’d just been staring out of the Milano blankly for as long as she’d been out.

Her voice is harder than a diamond and the low hissing anger beneath each word makes his fur prickle uncomfortably. “Drax, take Groot upstairs.”

Drax doesn’t argue. He just scoops the tiny plant baby up. Groot blinks rapidly, not understanding why she’s got her blade to Rocket’s throat, fresh tears still on his cheeks from Peter’s sudden disappearance. The little alien had seen rough times lately. Drax had grabbed Rocket and shook him, telling him to turn around and go back for Quill, screaming that it was dishonorable to leave their family behind, that it brought shame on their heads that they could never reverse. Rocket hadn’t even tried to defend the decision. He just let the big guy vent until he had nothing left but a terrible sense of loss and he just gave up to let the inevitable happen.

Gamora sinks down onto one knee so her mouth is right by his ear. Again, Rocket doesn’t flinch.

“How… _dare_ …you.”

“You know I did the right thing, Gamora,” Rocket says, doing his best to talk with the wickedly sharp metal only a breath away from piercing his hide.

“Leaving my friend to die alone on that horrible planet was the right thing to do?” she whispers. “Shooting me in the back when I was going to go save him was _the right thing to do?_ ”

“You wouldn’t have made it. You wouldn’t have even gotten close.”

She jerks him out of the pilot seat and slams him into the nearest wall. Her brown eyes are wild and wide and he can almost see a reflection of his own blank stare in them, maybe because those barbarian eyes are also filled with tears.

“It doesn’t matter!” she bellows. “It doesn’t matter if I failed! It doesn’t matter if the only thing that it changed is that he and I died together. It was my choice, Rocket. _Mine_. You took that away from me. You took everything away from me! Give me one good reason not to spear you and roast you over an open fire.”

Rocket reaches up with one paw and touches her hand, feeling the tremors rolling through it. “Because Peter wouldn’t have wanted you to die for him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I seen what a man looks like when he’s in love, Gamora,” Rocket whispers, and this time Gamora’s eyes aren’t the only ones that are wet. “If comms were still up, he’d have told us to leave him. He was a good man.”

Her grip on the blade tightens. She grits her teeth, and he can see the crazed assassin inside her clawing to be let out. She wants him dead. She wants blood. And for once, he can’t blame her.

Instead, she howls in fury and tosses him away from her. He lands hard and rolls, not bothering to catch himself. Her blade hits the deck. Her knees hit next. He can’t see her face through the curtain of dark hair spilling over either side of her face, but he sees her shoulders shaking and hears the choked sobs she’s swallowing.

Slowly, Rocket gets up and dusts himself off. “I know it doesn’t mean anything coming from me, but…I’m sorry, Gamora.”

He leaves her there to grieve.

-

She’s in her bunk packing up everything to leave this accursed ship and never return when Drax’s voice booms overhead. “Gamora! Rocket! Get up here now!”

The urgency is so clear that it breaks through her blind rage. She races up to the deck. Space is emptiness. She’s used to seeing no interruptions in its depths, only stars and galaxies and asteroids, but she can see a faint glow in the distance. A faint, human-shaped glow.

“What is it?” she asks. “Get us closer, rodent.”

Rocket hops into the seat and steers the Milano within spitting distance.

Gamora’s trembling hands cup her face.

It’s him.

Peter.

She practically flies to the pod bay door, and seconds later it opens to reveal Peter, safely inside a suit, and the body of Yondu. Drax helps him up and gently eases Yondu’s body inside. She shuts off the suit and once more, Gamora flies—but this time into his arms.

“Peter,” she gasps out into his neck. She can’t say anything else, even though her mind is going a mile a minute _—don’t ever leave again you stupid imbecile you were supposed to let me save you and you fucked it all up and I thought I’d never see your dumb Terran face again I love you thank you for coming back to me—_

His skin is cold and his arms are shaking, but he holds her close and buries his face in her hair like he’s trying to memorize its soft, silky texture and the scent of her underneath it. Neither of them separate for a painful stretch of time, but Gamora knows she has to ask what happened and he’s here and alive and she can figure out what to say to him later.

“What happened?”

Peter takes a deep breath. “Yondu went back for me. He only had the one suit, so he…”

She cups his face in her hands as his expression crumbles into helpless lines of grief. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Peter.”

He nods numbly. Drax motions for his help, and the three of them lift Yondu’s body.

-

After Yondu’s cremation, they set course for a port just to get some distance between themselves and where Ego’s planet had been. Peter retires to his bunk and Gamora follows, curling up in his lap, her head on his chest, listening to him breath. Usually it’s tense when they’re this close, but she strangely doesn’t feel nervous. She’s not good at this sort of thing—at comfort, at healing people—but somehow she’s stumbled across a way to help him feel better, as selfish as it might actually be.

“Tell me something,” she whispers.

“Anything.”

“If I’d gone back for you…if Yondu hadn’t been there…” She tilts her head up to look at him. “Would you have been angry with me?”

“Yeah,” Peter mutters. “Damn right I would have.”

She frowns. “Why? If it had been me, you wouldn’t have left me behind.”

“Yeah, because I’m an idiot,” he says. “You’re worth going back for, Gamora. I’m not. This whole thing happened because of me. If I had to choose anyone to get out of a scrape, it’d be you. You know that.”

She pushed up enough to be level with him, her dark eyes fierce. “And what makes you think you’re unworthy? Because you made a mistake? You always make mistakes, but you always try to fix them. Why do you think you’re beyond redemption and I’m not?”

“Because of how hard you fought to get away from Thanos and to save your sister. You could have given up on everything, but you didn’t. You conquered all that. What have I done? Lucked out saving the galaxy twice, sure, but that’s after a lifetime of thievin’ and all sorts of rotten stuff you don’t even wanna know about.”

“Peter, you just found out your father—the man you’ve been searching for your whole life—was a megalomaniac who wanted to wipe out all life, and you stood up to him. You had ultimate power and the chance to be immortal, but you gave it up for us. How does that make you unworthy?”

He can’t find an answer, so he just looks down at his hands. She takes them, gently. “If we’re ever going to move forward, you need to understand something, Peter. I haven’t had family since Thanos murdered my parents. Now I have one and I’m not going to lose it, not when I have a choice. So if you want me like you say you do, then you have to open your eyes and see what I see when I look at you. I will protect with my life. I will always come for you, Peter. I will choose you every time. If that’s not what you want, then there will never be an us.”

He searches her gaze, absorbing her words. He smiles softly and brushes her hair behind her ear. “Geez. I’m supposed to the big, strong hero and you’re supposed to be the frosty ice queen. You’re breaking all kinda rules here, Gamora.”

She relaxes against him as he tugs her closer inch by inch. “Just be glad I haven’t made you wear a dress.”

He kisses her. It’s wondrous. It’s everything she hoped it would be: soft, passionate, with just the barest edge of sensuality. She grins against his mouth before leaning in for more.

“Yet.”

FIN


End file.
